


Cleaning Up

by lesbomancy



Category: Tyranny (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Rope Bondage, Teasing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9649196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbomancy/pseuds/lesbomancy
Summary: After the battle of Venedrian's Well, Verse and the Fatebinder discuss their feelings much to Verse's chagrin.





	1. Too Much Talking

Verse lowered herself into the cool water of the spring, dirt melting off of her skin like ice sitting in the sun. Battle was something normal, aftercare - even after years - still took a lot of practice. She dunked her head underwater and nearly jumped out of her skin as she broke through to the surface again. Despite her short jaunt underwater, Fatebinder Sevra had set up a blanket by the bank and was content to watch Verse bathe.

“Fatebinder,” she said casually.

If her state of undress before Sevra bothered her, she didn’t show it. Verse’s body language was as confident as it always was, even if her feathered mohawk was matted down into a woeful rat tail against her back as opposed to the well-maintaned spine that ran down half of her spine.

“Making a habit out of being a creep?” Sevra asked.

“Only since I know you like it.”

“For all you know, I’m deeply disturbed.”

Sevra laughed, a rough noise from someone who hasn’t had opportunity to do so often. “You are disturbed, but not because I’m watching you bathe.”

“Uh-huh. It starts with this, then you’re watching Barik when he tries to run off and sneakily shit himself.”

“Doubt it. He’s not you.”

“What kind of mushy bullshit is that?” Verse said, her lip curling in disgust.

“Oh-.. uh-.. the truth? Hard to wait until after the war sometimes. Tiers are a big place.”

“My answer should be my answer.”

“Hard to accept that when you’ve been watching me. Lantry told me.”

Verse stomped up from the water, purposefully splashing some in Sevra’s direction. She went to where she had them piled up and snarled upon discovering that Sevra had cleaned and had them hung up to dry. She turned around and balled her fists. “Fuck you.”

Sevra shrunk, though her eyes gave away her defiance. “Isn’t that the idea?”

“No, it’s not! There’s a fucking war going on and you’re making cow eyes at me like I don’t enjoy killing people.”

Verse was red in the face with anger as she clumsily pulled her wet clothing on, almost enjoying the smell of lavender that Sevra washed into it.

“I never said you weren’t a killer. You’re chaos and fire incarnate-... but you’re following me. You protect me, even when you protest.”

“Yeah, I fucking do! Should be obvious why.”

“Then why won’t you let it happen?”

“Because you’re way too sweet for me, Fatebinder. You’re a ‘big picture’ kind of person, basically an Archon as far as I’m concerned. Nothing good comes of what I want unless it’s death and war, even then I still-.. just why can’t you take no for an answer? You’re a fucking prick.”

“I want to help you feel better, like more of a person than an instrument. With everything that’s happening I think we both deserve it.”

Verse sucked her teeth, “You’re the first gang boss to give a shit and I fucking hate that. Your balls are too damn big. Chasing a Scarlet Fury like she’s a farmgirl who needs her slit licked? A deathwish.”

“If current events have proven anything, it’s that I have a significant instinct regarding going near dangerous things.”

Verse side-eyed Sevra, laughing roughly. “I’m still pissed at you.”

“I accept that.”

“And I’m just as likely to cut your throat as I am to kiss you.”

“I.. also accept that.”

The two shared an overlong pause, Verse sopping wet and staring at Sevra. The white-haired spellcaster kept her eyes to the spring in front of them. Verse cleared her throat and broke the silence.

“Keep your tent open tonight, Fatebinder. Never know what’s going to crawl in there.”

Sevra let out a sigh of relief and summarily undressed, a floating animal hide pouch dragging in the dirt behind her as she waded into the spring. After opening the pouch and beginning to rub herself down with her scented soaps she winked at Verse.

“My tent will be open-.. and you’re welcome to watch.”

Verse’s jaw set and she ground her teeth back and forth loudly, physically at odds with the smile building up as she watched Sevra clean herself. Once she began rinsing herself clean, Verse wandered through the brush back to camp.


	2. Fatebound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verse isn't one to be showed up. Traveling to the Fatebinder's tent later that night, she intends to take back some of the power from the Fatebinder in their relationship.
> 
> Day 2 of the Challenge Yourself: A Month of Fanfiction

"I can't say I didn't expect this," Verse said as she barged into the tent.

The Fatebinder's tent. Orderly, with little out of place. Sevra was sat upon a stool, cleaning the muck from her boots over a small bucket of water. Most of her stationery, scrolls, and books were all put up and she'd need only a few minutes the morning after before being ready to head out.

"Neither did I," Sevra said with genuine surprise. She put her boot down, letting it hang off of the footstool that was acting as a miniature workbench for her. She made the movement to stand up, but Verse quickly put a hand to Sevra's shoulder and pushed her back down.

"Nah, Fatebinder. You're good right there."

"Fair enough, Verse... did you come to talk about earlier? We ca-..."

Verse waggled a toy in front of Sevra's face. A ball gag, made of leather straps and a leather ball. It smelled fresh like it was recently made. How could she have gotten this done in a day? Unless...

"Open your mouth," Verse ordered.

Sevra bit her bottom lip, the pale woman's cheeks going flush at the firm words given to her and the intense stare. Verse looked just as excited, their eyes locking long enough for Sevra to register Verse nodding once. The Fatebinder opened her mouth and Verse slowly placed the gag inside, the straps snapping into a bronze buckle at the back of Sevra's head. The leather's taste was foreign and new, Sevra drooling uncontrollably for almost a full minute before she learned how to live with the intrusive leather ball in her mouth.

Propping one of her sandals on Sevra's knee, Verse leaned in close. She clenched Sevra's chin and roughly tugged it forward.

"If you want me to admit my shitty feelings for you, Fatebinder, we're gonna do it my way. Tonight you're hog-tied. When you're good and dehydrated and cramped up, I'll send Lantry along on a menial task, so you can be nice and embarrassed at being found. When we camp again tomorrow, you're going to find me and put that tongue to work until I squeal like a girl."

She didn't like being so mouthy, it wasn't her way. She wasn't lying about feelings to the Fatebinder and even if she did request for it to wait until after the war, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was okay to fraternize before it was all over. If Sevra died, it'd affect her like no death ever would have, nothing she would now change that. Verse went to a small trunk and pulled out a long length of jute rope. Sevra felt her panties dampen over the course of a few minutes as Verse's rough hands molded her like clay. Drool began to collect in her mouth and slowly drip out, beading underneath her face. After her life had literally been in Verse's hands in battle, something about the rough sensuality of her tossing her around and moving her as if she belonged to the mohawked Tierswoman was just too much not to enjoy. Verse's little play at a power dynamic had backfired brilliantly, with Sevra's heart beating not out of fear or embarrassment but proper excitement.

Sevra gurgled out a response, her skin prickling as Verse roughly undressed her until she was only in her panties. More than willing to go along, she obeyed when Verse pointed to the rug underneath them both.

"On your chest, spread your legs and arms."

True to her word, Verse was getting ready to hog-tie her, though in a way that Sevra wasn't used to. Verse's calloused fingers drew all over her skin, smoothing the path out for the rope that simply lumped together on her skin. When Verse pulled and made a knot, she could feel the tension in her legs, both of them unable to separate as if her calves were glued to the backs of her thighs. As Sevra wiggled, Verse hushed her by pressing her hand, cupped, against Sevra's panties. She rotated her fingers around where Sevra's clit was, the Fatebinder groaning and drooling readily now.

The tension of it all was fantastic, Sevra thought. It was freeing, liberating, despite literally being tied up and being immobilized. When Verse took her arms back and began to tie them up, Sevra's skin goose-pimpled in excitement. What was going to happen next? Her back arched as Verse tugged on a knot, her shoulders pinching. She was entirely immobile... and never more wet than she was in this moment. Verse squatted down, pressing her fingers into Sevra's mouth. She recognized the taste and scent; it was her own wetness that stained her panties. The Tierswoman pulled her hand out when Sevra stopped lapping at them like a thirsty dog and stood up. She made a show of moving away from Sevra until the Fatebinder rocked themselves to see where Verse was going.

Verse let out a devious, airy chuckle on her way out the tent, pausing at the frame. Her fingers drummed on the curtain rod and she made eye contact with Sevra, the Fatebinder unable to do much other than drool and struggle. Sevra writhed, gurgling in protest to Verse leaving, though not for her to be untied. It was her begging for more.

"C'mon, Fatebinder. Isn't this what you wanted?"


End file.
